


occupy your mind

by agentlithium



Category: Re-Animator (Movies)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Getting Together, M/M, Mild Gore, Post-Movie: Bride of Re-Animator (1989), eventually, hurt/attempted comfort but herbert is being a real dick, so most of the gore is just her, the bride doesn’t melt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 15:47:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29985171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agentlithium/pseuds/agentlithium
Summary: it's the funniest feeling
Relationships: Daniel Cain/Herbert West
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	occupy your mind

**Author's Note:**

> is this another re-animator fic in which dan copes with the traumatic events from the movie and gets with herbert after a confession blurted out during a heated discussion published immediately after my last fic with an almost identical plot? yes. but this time it's post-bride!! and gloria is here!!!

The car shot down the narrow laneway like a bat out of hell. Francesca was gripping the wheel so hard, her knuckles were turning white. Her bare foot pressed the gas pedal to the floor. She was wild-eyed, caked in dirt and blood, and focused only on getting the fuck out of there. She checked the rear-view mirror over and over to make sure there was nothing running after them or, more importantly, nothing in her back seat, rising up to strike. She got to the main road and turned right, heading in the opposite direction from her hotel. She knew nothing of the surrounding area, but she wasn’t particularly bothered. The farther and faster she got away from that house, in any direction, the better. In the passenger seat, her shivering, catatonic companion stared blankly at the road ahead. He didn’t seem to have any objections.

This was what she got for going after the nice, handsome doctor. Go figure.

It was the dead of night. The roads were lined with darkened houses, their occupants sleeping soundly with the knowledge that they didn’t have to spend their evening fending off a hoard of the vicious undead. If Francesca was the vindictive sort, she would have wished what she just experienced on them. It wasn’t fair that she had to bear that alone. As a journalist, though, she knew full well the world was unfair, observers indifferent, and facts always stranger than fiction.

The suburbs soon melted into commercial streets full of shuttered businesses. She didn’t recognize the area at all and her want to keep driving until the gas tank was empty was overshadowed by her fear of getting lost in a city she was unfamiliar with. She pulled over into a strip mall parking lot and shut the car off. They sat in uncomfortable silence. She didn’t know what to say, if there was anything to say.

Unsurprisingly, the air surrounding them was pretty tense.

“I’m sorry,” Dan croaked. Francesca was taken aback to hear him speak first.

“I… I know.”

For how much she hated him after what happened to Angel, what he dragged her into without her knowledge, she wasn’t quite as angry with him as she was before. Seeing his vacant eyes as they mistook that poor facsimile of a woman for his late fiancée only made her pity him. He didn’t want any of this to happen. Dan wasn’t an evil person, but he was sickened by grief and loss and, in no small part, the strange man who brought this all about. She would’ve asked Dan why he let West push him around, but it hardly felt like the appropriate time.

“What are you going to do?” he questioned her instead, and what a question it was. She pondered on it for a moment.

“I doubt the police would even believe me.”

Dan sighed, but didn’t express opposition. He wasn’t stupid enough to think that she would just forget this and move on. 

“I’ll do it. I’ll call the police and turn myself in.”

“Alright.”

The silence set in once again, but only for a beat.

“Can you bring me back to the house?”

She supposed she could oblige Dan this one last request.

Francesca retraced the route they took until the long driveway came into view. She swerved onto the shoulder of the road. She wasn’t going to drive back up there for love nor money. They exchanged no words as Dan got out of the car and closed the door behind him. If he had anything to say, he never got the chance. Francesca was already speeding off into the dark. An entirely fair reaction, if Dan was being honest. He crossed the street and started towards the house.

His body was beyond exhausted. Not even considering everything else he had been subjected to that night, he had dragged the full dead weight of two adults out of a collapsed crypt. Crawling out of a grave was not as easy as the movies made it look. Decomposing zombies on cinema screens seemed to claw through the earth like it was nothing. In reality, pulling yourself through loose dirt was _hard_.

On the bright side, he’d have plenty of time to rest in a holding cell once he was arrested. Chances were the police were already on their way. Someone must have heard the noises or saw something. They’d been far too lucky for far too long. It was a calming thought, in a weird way, that it would finally be over.

His feet dragged along, catching on the doorframe as he tentatively moved back into the house. A selfish part of him begged to turn around, leave it all behind, change his name, fake his death— anything. He didn’t have to take the fall for this. No one had to know what happened here. No one had to see what happened in that basement. Dan didn’t even want to think about the state it was left in. His mind supplied him with only the most horrific scenes imaginable: all of those horrible creatures having survived the collapse, new nightmares mutated from the chemical spill, Herbert’s mangled corpse among the bloodbath. 

A wave of dread crashed over him. Herbert’s body was still down there. In his panic to save himself and Francesca, he left Herbert behind. He would likely have to tear him free from the wreckage, a broken shell of shattered bone— what little remained of the man who could defeat death.

This dread was swiftly relieved and then replaced with an entirely new kind of dread when he walked into the living room and saw Herbert sitting on the couch.

He wasn’t perched primly as he usually was, with legs crossed and hands folded in his lap or cradling a textbook. He was instead slouched over, legs splayed, and his arms resting awkwardly on his stomach. His face was shadowed, but there was blood running freely from his nose and onto his shirt. Despite his poor condition, he was clearly conscious.

“Oh, my god,” Dan breathed. He didn’t know whether he should be happy or upset. On one hand, his friend was alive and, seemingly, in one piece. On the other, Herbert West was alive and, seemingly, in one piece. Herbert raised his head and pointedly stared at the wall opposite him.

“Daniel,” Herbert addressed him in a terse manner, but Dan could hear his voice wavering on the single word. Dan crossed the room and dropped onto the couch, jostling Herbert and making him gasp. When he turned to him, Dan could see how Herbert’s nose was jutting abnormally to the left.

“Oh, my _god_ ,” Dan struggled to say anything else. “I— Herbert, you’re alive!”

“Your observational abilities are truly astounding.”  
  
Dan ignored the jab. Instead, he examined the fresh bruises blooming under Herbert’s eyes. Certainly, a broken nose was not the last of his injuries. Dan’s gaze trailed down to his exposed forearms and he noted some inflammation. He reached for Herbert’s hand to inspect his arm closer, but he recoiled.

“Herbert, let me see your arm.”

“No,” his lips pursed in indignation. It was kind of amazing how fast Herbert could make Dan go from worried to mad.

“Now is not the time to be stubborn,” Dan took his hand forcefully, though still with gentleness in mind. It didn’t matter what he had in mind because Herbert let out a yelp. Dan drew back.

“Jesus, we gotta get you to the hospital.”

“No, we do not! Can we not attend to this here?”

“We don’t have any material suitable for setting broken bones. And you were nearly crushed to death. Who knows what other kind of damage you sustained.”

“It’s just my arm,” Herbert blatantly lied. It was obvious to anyone with eyes that he was in agony.

“And your nose.”

“Most nasal fractures do not require medical attention.”

“Christ’s sake, Herbert. At the very least, you’ll need a cast.”

“And what if our co-workers inquire as to how I got these injuries?”

“You’ve never had a problem with lying before. You can cook up something in the car. Now, get up.”

Herbert breathed deeply, though he couldn’t take in much air before wincing. Dan’s hand twitched to touch him again, but stopped short.

“I can’t,” Herbert stated with finality.

Well, he was in good enough health to continue being a pain in Dan’s ass. That was something.

“Yes, you can.”

“No, I can’t. I can’t get up.”

“What?”

“My foot,” he nodded towards his feet, like Dan forgot where they were.

Now, today had been a _day_. Dan was used to the odd stressful day every now and again. Hell, he lived with Herbert, which was essentially a heart attack waiting to happen. But this particular day had taken him to some less-than-stellar places and wore his patience down to near nothing.

“Are you kidding me?” Dan did his best not to yell. That would only make Herbert more difficult. “Is it broken?”

“No, I don’t believe so, but I can’t put any pressure on it.”

“How did you get up here?”

Herbert narrowed his eyes. At least, Dan thought he did. They could have also been rapidly swelling shut.

“I walked on my hands.”

Dan huffed, shook his head, and ran his hands through his hair. If Herbert wasn’t already suffering enough, Dan would’ve given him a reason for a hospital visit. There was only one way to get Herbert out of the house, it seemed.

“Fuck it, I’ll carry you then.”

“You’ll what?”

Dan crouched to scoop Herbert off the couch. He was a fairly slight man, so carrying him to the car wouldn’t be much of a feat for Dan. Herbert, however, was not a fan of this method of transportation. He started to push weakly against Dan.

“No, no! You will do no such thing! Daniel, I swear, if you don’t unhand me—”

He continued to protest and try to wiggle away without moving his injured arm too much, though his efforts were in vain. Dan already had an arm under his knees and another sliding between his back and the couch. Suddenly, Herbert’s tone changed from petulant to urgent. 

“Wait, Dan. What about her?”

Dan paused, asking “who?” before he could really think. He almost believed Herbert was talking about Francesca, but Dan knew better than that at this point. It took a moment for him to cycle through all of the ‘her’s Herbert was concerned with. He came up with one, and the weight of the dread in his stomach only doubled.

“She’s still here?”

“Where else would she go? She’s in the basement.”

“Oh, my god,” said Dan for what wouldn’t be the last time that day. He carefully let Herbert go.

“I told her not to move. She seems far more obedient than the others.”

“What do we do with her?”

“Well, we’ll stay and figure it out right here,” Herbert explained.“You are going to the hospital,” Dan pointed a finger at him. “I’ll… I don’t know. I’ll talk to her.”

“That worked out spectacularly the last time.”

Dan bit back a curse. He had to breathe for a time to stop himself from wailing on Herbert. He was in an extremely volatile state of mind and Herbert either couldn’t see it or simply didn’t give a shit.

“Don’t move,” he said. “Let’s see if you can be obedient.”

Herbert bristled at the taunt. He didn’t dignify it with a response, only pouting deeper and turning away from Dan as he took off toward the basement. Dan stopped just before he rounded the corner.

“Is there anything else down there?”

“No, nothing else managed to escape.”

Dan felt a shudder overtake him, knowing that Herbert’s survival was nothing short of miraculous. He’d have to tell him so later, just to piss him off.

Dan descended the stairs, walked through the ruined door, passed the wreckage made of their barricade, and came to a halt. He looked from one corner of the basement to the other. The place was absolutely destroyed. It would take weeks to clean, but that was fine. The property damage was not a problem at all, so long as there was no more of those wretched fucking creatures to worry about. If Dan strained his ear, he thought he could hear something howling in the walls, but he did all he could to convince himself it was only an echo of what happened earlier.

His eye stopped on the naked, monstrous woman standing on the far side of the room, still slathered in viscera. She swayed like a dead tree in the wind. Her skin was mottled, discoloured yellow, brown, and purple— _rotten_. Her matted hair stood up like a fragmented halo around her head. How in the hell did he mistake her for Meg? She was staring back at him with her head cocked to the side. It stretched the exposed muscles of her neck. Dan felt like he was going to puke. He pulled his grimace into a pained smile.

“Hi, Gloria,” he called her the name out of habit. That wasn’t Gloria anymore, but her face made him forget that for a second.

“You,” she smiled back at him, the blood on her lips shining in the dim light. The last time Dan saw her, she was screaming her throat raw amidst a destructive meltdown. He was surprised to see her greet him so warmly. She reached out for him, but her feet stayed in place.

“Yeah, it’s me. Um, can you come here?” he beckoned her with an unsure wave of his hand. Her brow furrowed.

“Don’t... move,” she parroted Herbert’s orders.

“It’s okay. Herbert said you can move.”

Her gaze flitted around with a nervous expression like she expected Herbert to leap out of the shadows to scold her for defying him. When no diminutive scientists were to be found, she started off toward Dan. Her metal joints limited her movements and some of them screeched as they rubbed together. The sounds coupled with her stilted movements were incredibly unnerving but, by God, Dan kept that smile on his face. When she got close enough, Dan guided her upstairs by the hand. He correctly assumed with her poor coordination she’d have trouble with the stairs. The open tendons were slimy to the touch and this time, he actually gagged, but the Bride didn’t notice or care. She gripped his hand to steady herself with a strength that, frankly, scared the absolute shit out of Dan. When they finally returned to the living room, Herbert’s breathing was growing audibly laboured. He gave Dan a bewildered look.

“W-Why did you bring her up here?”

“I—”

Why did he bring her up there? To be entirely honest, the stupidly sentimental part of Dan didn’t want to leave the poor thing standing alone in the dark any longer. Also, he just wanted _out_ of that basement so damn fast and in his urgency, he did not have the time to come up with a plan. So, he grabbed the only technically living thing in sight and hauled ass up the stairs.

“I didn’t want to leave her down there,” he gave an earnest answer.

Herbert looked at him like he was nuts. In all fairness, he probably was. He had enough shit wrong with him that he alone could be paying some lucky therapist’s bills if it wouldn’t be an instantaneous jail sentence should his crimes be divulged to anyone.

Funny, wasn’t he just about to turn himself in? Throw himself to the mercy of the legal system? Of course, this was before he discovered that Herbert was still alive. His greatest distraction and greatest excuse, so it seemed.

“She might get into something dangerous. Do you expect her to stand in place for however long we’ll be gone?” he added, but Herbert wasn’t entirely convinced. His scowl said just as much.

“Uh, okay,” Dan tried to organize his mind to formulate a list of what he had to do in order of importance. “I gotta change before we go.” He pulled off his filthy, bloodstained blouse. Since Herbert was only painted in his own blood along with some rock dust, it would likely not raise much suspicion. Dan, however, would like to avoid any more fingers being pointed at him. If he was going to go back on his declaration to Francesca, at least he would have to commit to it. He was about to take off to his room when he decided to make use of the shirt before it went into the fire. He handed it to the Bride.

“Will you put this on?”

“Dan, what are you—” Herbert began.

“I don’t want her walking around naked. It feels… weird.”

“You’re a doctor and yet, you find the human body ‘weird’?”

“Yes, Herbert. It _is_ weird to have a fucking naked franken-woman wandering around our house.”

The Bride let out a hoarse cry of frustration and Dan turned to see her with her head stuck in the sleeve of the shirt, one arm sticking out of the neck. Dan quickly began tugging at the garment while she thrashed to be free of her cotton prison. Thankfully, he was able to get her head into the right hole and she wriggled her arms into the sleeves all by herself. Given her height, the oversized shirt didn’t even reach her mid-thigh, but it covered her well enough. Meanwhile, Herbert was rubbing his left temple with his good hand, shaking his head with the kind of shame a father would when watching his kid eat a fistful of sand.

“See, that’s better,” Dan smiled a little more genuinely this time and the Bride lit up in response. He still felt wrong looking at her. “Alright, you can sit down there,” he gestured to an old armchair, “and stay right where you are until we come back, okay?”

“Stay here,” she confirmed. Satisfied, Dan then ran off to get a new shirt, leaving Herbert to grumble to himself with no audience besides their creation. And she was hardly a conversationalist.

When he returned, wearing a red pullover, he had only Herbert left to tend to.

“Are you ready to go?”

“Does it matter? You’re going to force me anyway,” Herbert sulked.

“Just asking to be polite.”

As he approached Herbert, Dan hesitated briefly and, on a whim, turned on the TV. It came to life, displaying some sitcom rerun. The Bride startled as the laugh track erupted from the speakers, but her eyes widened in awe at the bright screen. Herbert scoffed animatedly.

“Don’t tell me. You’re worried she’ll get bored?” he mocked. Herbert was more prickly than usual, but Dan chalked it up to his injuries. No one in that kind of pain would be in any mood to be pleasant. Plus, Herbert was never pleasant anyway. Aside from a roll of his eyes, Dan, again, ignored him. He got ready to pick him up again, but Herbert was entirely serious about not letting that happen.

“No, my left foot is fine. I can stand. Just help me to the car.”

Dan didn’t object. If Herbert wanted to make his own life harder, that was his prerogative. He reached out with his left arm and Dan let him wrap it around his shoulders. He pried him off of the couch while Herbert let out a crescendoing groan as he straightened. Then, they began the long and treacherous journey to the car. Herbert could only hop along slowly and with every small stretch of distance covered, he would choke on an unseemly whimper. Dan tightened his hold around him to hopefully offer more support, but this made it worse. By the time they got to the car, there were tears cutting through the dust on Herbert’s cheeks. He was prideful to a fault, but his body was eager to betray him.

Dan struggled as he opened the door of his old car and lowered Herbert inside. Realistically, he probably wasn’t in the most ideal headspace to be driving. It was a wonder that Dan wasn’t a babbling heap on the floor with all that had happened in the span of the last few hours. Whether he should be driving or not, he was the only member of the household who could legally operate a vehicle. Herbert often argued that, in theory, he could drive, but Dan wouldn’t trust a healthy Herbert with all of his limbs operational behind the wheel of a car.

Dan walked around the front and got into the driver’s seat. He put the keys in the ignition and threw the car into drive. The shock or adrenaline or manic delirium was wearing off for Herbert and he was panting shallowly through the pain, hissing at each sharp turn, abrupt stop, or takeoff. Dan tried to keep his focus on the task at hand, but it kept straying to Herbert.

“I can’t believe you survived that,” he blurted.

“I know. How— _ffffuck_. H-How unfortunate for you.”

Dan was a little stunned by his response. He reminded himself again that Herbert definitely had multiple severe fractures and, likely, quite a number of internal injuries. His irritability could, for once, be excused.

“I’m glad you’re alright, Herbert.”

Herbert didn’t reply and Dan didn’t press. Instead, he devoted his attention to the road. The black sky had just begun to fade into the cold blue of early morning. Dan took some comfort in the knowledge that the longest night of his life was nearly at an end. 

**Author's Note:**

> stay tuned for more bride content and also to find out why herbert is being such a cantankerous bitch


End file.
